


Remembrance In A Bed

by impulsiveIam



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 12:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14976749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impulsiveIam/pseuds/impulsiveIam
Summary: I don't own any of these characters, I just love them. Thank you.





	Remembrance In A Bed

Morning found him with a mouthful of hair and a very warm body backed up into him. The first light of dawn was creeping in stealthily, as if hesitant to rouse them from their intimate sleep. He didn’t want to move or disturb Wynonna, preferring to listen to her steady breathing.

He remembered the tumultuous day before. He remembered driving her to the doctor for her antenatal appointment and enduring the more than inquisitive stares from patients and staff alike. Wow. If he had doubted Wynonna’s reputation preceded her, those doubts were swiftly laid to rest. One old disapproving biddy with a splotchy complexion and thinly compressed mouth had thought it smart to ask the obvious question but the sharp glare and set jaw from the brooding man with the closed off face, stilled her foolish tongue.

People were curious about the Deputy Marshall. Moreso, his relationship with Wynonna’s burgeoning bulge had been the subject of endless gossip and speculation since the Wainwright fiasco. He’d come into town and seemingly befriended its most notorious denizen to the exclusion of all others and now here he was seated in the lobby of the doctors’ room waiting like any other attentive boyfriend/baby daddy? 

He didn’t mix with the locals so much as scrutinize them and many had decided that he was not a man to get on the wrong side of and wisely steered well clear. 

He had not cared. His focus was on Wynonna and her baby, keeping both of them healthy and alive whilst dealing with the curse and all the attending garbage that entailed. Tentatively, he’d moved to repair their relationship after the Hypnos disaster, keeping her supplied with the plain yoghurt she had taken an obvious liking too. Then it was the cold cream for her stretched skin, then a heating pad for her aching feet. 

Small things, but he wanted to show her that there was more to him than the regimented douche bag she’d experienced on numerous occasions. Another side to him that maybe in time, they could explore together. It was nice to be needed for something other than his covert skills, even if it was just keeping her in yoghurt and pizza and doughnuts and taking her to appointments. It made her happy and that made him feel good.

Xavier remembered the anguish of seeing her driven away in the truck and the rush of relief hearing her voice on the phone despite Ewans’ smug face back at the office. He remembered his rage at Juan Carlos outside the church, hands tensed in the lapels of his jacket, his fist cocked and the way even his “reconciled other” had thrashed excitedly anticipating the beat down to come. 

It was rare for its person to release the chokehold of control on it even an inch but ever since the female had come into play things had been different. It had regarded her curiously in the barn, as she had lain on her back pinned under its persons’ weight. She had been the cause of its failure to take complete control of him at the black site and staring at her through its slitted yellow eyes, it had an idea why.

It remembered the cat and mouse fight with the widows in the woods, their presence trailing like fingers of fetid mist finally congealing into their shrouded black forms. It remembered stalking its quarry, slinking through the detested woods, sighting its prey, only for his person to trip and in an instant feel the track of poison slip through.   
Shocking pain had seared through his person rendering him unconscious. Again pictures and memories of Wynonna had flashed through Xaviers’ mind and it had finally understood that Wynonna was life to its person. It surged forward pouring adrenalin, heat and power through constricted veins and arteries alike melting the noxious sheen that had formed on Xavier’s cheeks and chin.

Xavier remembered getting up from the freezing snow, heading back to the church, only to disturb the widows feeding on a still breathing Juan Carlos. At the sight of him, they’d fled their ghastly feast, not understanding how it was he lived. One bullet had delivered Juan Carlos from of his awful misery and barricading the church doors he’d stumbled and fallen beside Wynonna who was still in her deep dream state, the widows’ venom biting back. He remembered shouting for Wynonna to wake up before blacking out.

The wail of fire trucks and the acrid smell of burning had ripped him from unconsciousness and once more he found himself flat on his back in the cold of the snow. Turning his head from the appalling sight of the blazing church, he saw Wynonna laid out and unmoving. Panic heaved through his throat like bile and scrambling over to her, he had released words and tears like a floodgate, pleading with her to come back, covering her face with kisses, horrified at the thought of her dying.

Later on that night at the Homestead he’d crawled into the bed with her. She did not want to be alone he did not want to leave. So he stayed, tucked in behind her, kissing her shoulder tenderly and twining their fingers whilst listening to her talk quietly about the vision quest, Robert Svanes’ metamorphosis into Bobo and the threat of Bulshar. 

“If we live long enough we’ll become enemies,” he’d said thoughtlessly.  
“No, never, not you and me,” she replied.

He prayed so.

Remembering the 77 seconds she’d been dead had jerked her upright in a panic. 77 seconds for every revenant she’d ever killed to resurrect and rain down hell on the Ghost River Triangle, again. Xavier had laughed it off, choosing to ease her back into bed and into his arms where he could cuddle and keep her protected at least for that night. 

Tomorrow would see for itself.

It had felt right, good, personal in a way it had never before with anyone else. Purposefully he had slid his hand along her waist and under her belly, splaying his large warm fingers against the soft and stretched skin. She had gasped and stilled, clearly surprised by the unexpected contact. He grinned silently to himself leaving his hand there and letting her decipher the movement whichever way she would. The tension had seeped out of her and before long the both of them drifted off to sleep.

There’d been a change of this he was sure. He had no clue what the day held going forward but for now he was in her bed content to spoon. His hand now drew little circles around her belly button and he wondered idly if baby would be as rambunctious as the mother. Naturally, it was a given. Wynonna woke, muttering something softly and turned to face him. Xavier smiled at her, now tracing the line of her hip from the small dip in her waist.

“Morning,” she drawled laconically. “You gonna spend the whole day playing with my stomach or you gonna make breakfast? I’m starved.”

Xavier’s smile grew radiant. Breakfast it was then. Everything else could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of these characters, I just love them. Thank you.


End file.
